_Journalism.--Prodigious Enterprises.--Startling
Headlines.--"Jerked to Jesus."--"Mrs. Carter finds Fault with
her Husband's Kisses."--Jacob's Ladder.--Sensational
News.--How a Journalist became known.--Gossip.--The Murderer
and the Reporters.--Detective Journalists.--"The Devil
Dodged."--Ten Minutes' Stoppage in Purgatory.--French,
English, and American Journalists.--A Visit to the Great
Newspaper Offices.--Sunday Papers.--Country Papers.--Wonderful
Eye-ticklers.--Polemics.--"Pulitzer and Dana."--Comic and
Society Papers.--The "Detroit Free Press" and the "Omaha
World."--American Reviews._
By his discovery of America, Christopher Columbus has furnished the Old
World with an inexhaustible source of amusing novelties. You pass from
the curious to the marvellous, from the marvellous to the incredible,
from the incredible to the impossible realised.
But it is to American journalism that the palm must be awarded.
I shall speak later on of the Sunday papers--those phenomenal
productions that fairly take your breath away.
Take the daily papers: eight, ten, sometimes twelve pages, each
consisting of eight or nine columns of fine print, the whole for a penny
or threehalf-pence. So much for the quantity.
The first thing that attracts your attention is the titles of the
articles. The smallest bit of news cannot escape your notice, thanks to
these wonderful head-lines. It requires a special genius for the work,
to be able to hit upon such eye-ticklers.
Here are a few that I noted down in New York, Chicago, and other large
towns:--
The death of Mrs. Garfield, mother of the late President, was announced
with the heading:
_Death of Grandma Garfield._
The marriage of M. Maurice Bernhardt:
_Sarah's boy leads his bride to the altar._
The execution of a criminal was announced by a Chicago paper under the
heading:
_Jerked to Jesus._
The reports of two divorce cases at Chicago were entitled respectively:
_Tired of William._
_Mrs. Carter finds fault with her husband's kissing._
An article on Prince Bismarck was headed in large letters: BISMARCK
WITHDRAWS. Just underneath, in very small print, was: _His resignation
as Chancellor of the German Empire_.
The marriage of young Earl Cairns, who had been betrothed several times,
was announced to the American ladies thus:
_Garmoyle caught at last._
Mr. Arthur Balfour, having refused to reply to some attacks of the Irish
Nationalists, a prominent New York paper thus announced the fact;
_Balfour doesn't care a_----
During his late visit to America, Mr. Joseph Chamberlain was invited by
the members of a New York club to a dinner given in his honour. At the
eleventh hour the right honourable gentleman, being detained in
Washington on State business, was obliged to send and excuse himself.
Next day, I read in the _New York Herald_:
_One dinner less for Joe._
While I was in the United States, the papers were constantly speaking of
a financier named Jacob Sharp. Accused of fraudulent dealings, this
gentleman had been arrested, but subsequently released, untried. The
press indulged in much comment on the matter, and such remarks as: "All
mortals have their trials except financiers."
One morning the newspapers were obliged to desist from their attacks:
poor Jacob had passed away from earth.
The same day, I met the editor of one of the large daily papers.
"Well," said I, "here is a fine occasion for a grand head-line
to-morrow; you are not going to let it slip, I suppose."
"What do you mean?"
"How can you ask? Why, _Jacob gone up the ladder_! of course."
"Splendid!" he exclaimed.
"_Pends-toi_, my dear editor, thou didst not find that one."
"I must have it. How much will you take for it?"
"I'll make you a present of it," said I.
Next morning, the death of the financier was told in two columns,
headed:
_Jacob gone up the ladder._
If ever I wanted to apply for a journalistic post in America, this would
be my most weighty recommendation in the eyes of my future chief.
* * * * *
I did not know what lively reading was until I saw an American
newspaper.
American journalism is, above all, a sensational journalism. If the
facts reported are exact, so much the better for the paper; if not, so
much the worse for the facts. Beyond the date, few statements are
reliable. But the papers are always lively reading. Picture to yourself
a country where the papers are all _Pall Mall Gazettes_, with this
difference, that the articles, instead of being always by "One who
knows," are oftener by "One who doesn't."
To succeed as a journalist in America, it is not necessary to be a man
of letters, to be able to write leading articles _a la_ John Lemoinne;
the only qualification necessary is to be able to amuse and interest the
reader; this must be done at any cost; all styles are admissible except
the heavy.
The accounts of trials in the police courts or at the courts of assize
eclipse the novels of M. du Boisgobey. I, who never read tribunal
reports in the English newspapers, was more than once surprised in
America to find myself deeply interested in the account of a trial for
murder, following all the details of the case and unwilling to miss a
word. Alternately moved and horrified, I would read to the end, then,
passing my hand across my forehead, I would say to myself: "How silly;
it is mostly fiction, after all!"
The American journalist must be spicy, lively, bright. He must know how
to, not _report_, but _relate_ an accident, a trial, a conflagration,
and, at a push, make up an article of one or two columns in length upon
the most insignificant incident. He must be interesting, _readable_, as
the English call it with reason. His eyes and ears must be always open,
every sense on the alert; for, before all and above all, he must keep
ahead in this race for news; if he should once let himself be outdone by
a _confrere_, his reputation would be blasted.
But you will perhaps exclaim: "What is the poor fellow to do when there
is no news?" What is he to do? And his imagination, is it given him for
no purpose? If he have no imagination, he had better give up the idea of
being a journalist in America, as he will soon find out.
This is how one American reporter made a reputation at a bound. The
Chicago people are still proud to tell the story.
The young fellow was taking a walk one evening in a retired part of the
town, on the look-out for what adventure history does not say. All at
once, a human form, lying motionless on the ground, attracted the sight
of our hero. He drew near to it, stooped down, and found it to be a
corpse. His first impulse was to immediately seek a policeman and tell
him of the discovery.
But a second idea came; it was more practical, and he adopted it. This
was it:
His paper comes out at two in the afternoon, so that by running straight
to the police station he would be making the matter public, and
furnishing his brother reporters with a column or two for their morning
papers. It is a catch, this corpse, and not to be lightly given away.
What to do? Simply this. Our journalist drags the body into an empty
building near at hand, and carefully hides it. At eleven next morning,
he _discovers_ it by chance, goes as fast as possible to make his
declaration to the police, and then hastens away to the office of his
newspaper with two columns of description written overnight. At two
o'clock, the paper announces "Mysterious murder in Chicago: discovery of
the victim by one of our reporters!"
The morning papers were outdone; the evening ones nowhere.
This is the kind of talent you must have in order to stand a chance of
making your way in American journalism.
Crimes, divorces, elopements, mesalliances, gossip of all kinds, furnish
the papers with three-quarters of their contents. A mysterious affair,
skilfully handled, will make the fortune of a paper.
For several weeks, during the months of February and March, the American
papers were talking about a young lady of good family in Washington,
who, it appeared, had become engaged to a young Indian named Chaska, a
tawny brave of the Sioux tribe. There were descriptions of the wild man;
descriptions of the festivities which were to be held in his honour at
the camp of the great chief, Swift Bird; descriptions of the gorgeous
ornaments with which the members of the tribe would be adorned--nothing
was wanting: day after day fresh details were added. Then the despair of
the young lady's family was pictured. The threats of an indignant
father, the tears of a distressed mother, nothing, it seemed, could
touch the heart of the fair one but the piercing eyes of Chaska.
At last the marriage takes place, not only in broad day, but in church.
It is not Swift Bird who blesses the young couple; it is the parish
clergyman. Romance gives place to verity; and, without the slightest
sign of being disconcerted, the papers announce (in a few lines only
this time) that the young lady has married a clerk in the _Indian
Affairs Office_.
* * * * *
All this is as nothing. It is when there is a criminal case to handle
that American journalism becomes simply sublime.
The criminal is no sooner arrested than the reporters hurry to his cell,
and get him to undergo the curious operation now known throughout the
world as _interviewing_. He is treated with all the consideration due to
a man in his position. "Mr. So and So, of the _Earthquake_, presents
his compliments to Mr. Blank, charged with murder, and requests the
favour of a few minutes' conversation." To be accused of an important
crime gives a man a certain standing in America. The more atrocious the
crime, the more interesting the accused; and columns upon columns of
print supply the public with his slightest sayings and doings. He is the
hero of the day. From the prison, the reporters go to hunt up the
witnesses, whom they also interview in their turn. Regular examinations,
these interviews!
If there is any love story mixed in with the affair, if there are a few
piquant details, you may easily imagine that the public gets the worth
of its penny.
The American is gallant, and when the victim is of the feminine gender,
I can assure you the accused generally gets a pretty drubbing in the
press.
* * * * *
American journalism carries the spirit of enterprise still further. Not
content with trying criminals, it hunts them out and brings them to
justice. Policeman, magistrate, public prosecutor, judge--the journalist
is all these.
I know of several American newspapers having quite a staff of
detectives--yes, detectives. If a criminal escapes justice, or an affair
remains surrounded by mystery, these new-fashioned journalists are let
loose every morning on a search for the criminal, or to try and pick up
threads of information that may lead to the clearing up of the mystery.
These detectives are employed, not only in cases of crime, but work just
as hard over a divorce or an elopement: it is journalism turned private
detective agency. A newspaper that can boast of having brought a
criminal to justice, discovered the hiding-place of an unfaithful wife,
or run a ravisher to earth, is rewarded by an increased sale forthwith.
The slightest thing that can make the paper attractive is seized upon
with avidity. The headings, which I have spoken of, are called into
requisition on all occasions, and there is nothing, down to the mere
announcements, that will not suggest to a wide-awake editor one of these
wonderful eye-ticklers. Thus the Saturday list of preachers for the
morrow is headed in the _New York Herald_:
_Salvation for all_; or _Guiding Sinners Heavenwards_, or _Dodging the
Devil_.
In one paper, you will see the list of births, marriages, and deaths,
headed respectively: _The Cradle_, _the Altar_, and _the Tomb_; in
another, more facetious: _Hatches_, _Matches_, and _Dispatches_.
In a society paper, much given to gossip, I noticed the news of the
fashionable world distributed under the following titles:
_Cradle_ (list of births);
_Flirtations_ (list of young people suspected of a tender passion for
each other);
_Engagements_ (promises of marriage);
_Tiffs_ (sic);
_Ruptures_;
_Marriages_;
_Divorces and Separations_;
_Deaths_.
It was the whole comedy of life.
What a pity the American papers cannot have reporters in the other world
to note the _entries into Paradise_, and _descents into Hell_!
_Ten minutes' stoppage in Purgatory_ would be very crisp and effective.
* * * * *
Compared with the French and English papers, the American dailies have
neither the literary value of the former nor the authority of the latter
in the matter of political foreign news.
The French newspapers are most of them literary productions of
incontestable worth; but, with the exception of one or two leading
articles, and the literary, musical, and dramatic criticisms, nothing
very serious in the way of information is to be found in them. The
foreign intelligence is of the most meagre, and usually consists of a
few lines furnished by _L'agence Havas_: "The Emperor of Germany is a
little better," or "Queen Victoria has returned to Windsor from
Scotland," etc.
Mr. George Augustus Sala once said very wittily that the French papers
bear the date of to-morrow and the news of yesterday. The satire is a
little severe, but it is not unmerited. He might, however, have taken
that opportunity for reminding his numerous readers that, if the
Parisian papers are inferior to the London ones in the matter of news,
they are greatly their superiors in the matter of articles. It is true
we have no longer among our journalists Roqueplan, Karr, Mery, Janin,
Prevost-Paradol, Girardin, Taine, About; but we have still John
Lemoinne, Weiss, Sarcey, Rochefort, Wolff, Lockroy, Vacquerie, Scholl,
Fouquier, Bergerat, and many others, who offer to the public every
morning articles stamped with genius, or, at the least, sparkling with
wit; yes, we have still a goodly group of such.
For the intelligent, serious man, the English daily papers have only the
attraction of the correctness of their correspondence, home and foreign.
It consists of facts in all their aridity, but still facts. As for the
articles, few persons, I fancy, read those productions written, with few
exceptions, in the dry, thready, pedagogic style much affected by
lower-form schoolboys, and often deserving the favourite comment of the
late M. Lemaire, professor at the Lycee Charlemagne: "_Lourd, pateux,
delaye dans le vide_."
An American newspaper is a conglomeration of news, political, literary,
artistic, scientific, and fashionable, of reports of trials, of amusing
anecdotes, gossip of all kinds, interviews, jokes, scandal; the whole
written in a style which sometimes shocks the man of taste, but which
often interests, and always amuses.
A literary celebrity of Boston said to me one day: "I am ashamed of our
American press; we have only two papers in the country that I do not
blush for, and those are the Boston _Post_, and the _Evening Post_ of
New York.
I must say that, if you want to hear America and everything American
severely criticised, you have only to go to Boston. There you will hear
Boston and England praised, and America picked to pieces.
"Are you an American?" I once asked of a gentleman I met in New York.
"Well," he said after some hesitation, "I'm from Boston."
Fancy! being born in Boston, and obliged to be an American! That's hard.
The American public is not composed merely of the refined society of
Boston and New York, and the press is obliged to cater to the public
taste. When the public taste is improved, the newspapers will reform,
and everything leads to the belief that the amelioration will not be
long coming.
* * * * *
As for political news sent over from Europe, one needs to allow a little
margin on what one reads in the American papers; but it is impossible
not to praise the activity which animates the press.
Thus, for instance, I was in New York on the day that M. Victorien
Sardou brought out _La Tosca_ at the Porte St. Martin. The first
representation took place on a Saturday. The next morning, my newspaper
gave me a most complete analytical description of the performance in two
columns. That is to say, the Americans were able to read the details of
Sarah Bernhardt's latest triumph earlier than the inhabitants of Lyons
or Marseilles, who had to wait for the Paris papers.
Thanks to their journalism, the Americans have at least an idea of what
is going on in Europe: they know our new plays, they read our new books,
they are kept informed of every event, just as if they were neighbours.
And how is it possible, I repeat, not to say a good word for a
journalism which knows how to excite, as well as satisfy, the curiosity
of a great people?
Go and ask the first hundred Frenchmen you meet in the streets of Paris
what is the name of the President of the United States, you will find
ninety-nine of them unable to tell you. The Frenchman is exclusive to
the point of stupidity, and that which is not French possesses no
interest for him. Enveloped in this exclusiveness, he knows nothing: in
the matter of foreign questions, he is the most ignorant being in the
world; and French journalism, obliged to study his tastes, serves him
with nothing but French dishes.
You must visit the offices of the great New York papers in the evening,
if you would get an idea of these colossal enterprises. There you see
about fifty reporters with their news all ready for print in their
hands. Each one in turn passes before the heads of the various
departments, political, literary, dramatic, etc.
"What have you?" asks an editor of the first reporter who presents
himself.
"An interview with Sarah Bernhardt."
"Very good. Half a column. And what have you?" he says, turning to the
second.
"A report of John Smith, the banker's case."
"Right. One column. And you?"
"I have an account of the President's forthcoming journey to the South."
When all the reporters have passed, they go to another room to reduce
their articles to the required length. Over six hundred correspondents,
scattered all over the globe, send in their telegrams[9] by special wire
for the most part; and the conversation, which we have just overheard in
the office, begins again, this time with Washington, Boston,
Philadelphia, Chicago, San Francisco, Paris, London, Berlin, &c.
[9] I have seen, in American papers, European telegrams of 2,000 and
even 3,000 words--at sixpence a word.
"What have you for us this evening?" says the editor to his
correspondent in Berlin.
"Bismarck threatens to send in his resignation."
"One column."
"Boulanger has just received an ovation at Lille. A riot is feared in
Paris," wires the Paris correspondent.
"Capital! send two columns."
"A scandal in Rome. The Marchioness of N. has run away with her
husband's secretary."
"Good. Where are they gone?"
"No one knows."
"No matter. Send a good stirring column all the same."
"What's-his-name, the financier, has made off," ticks the wire from
Chicago.
"A column. Send report, and start on scent of the fugitive."
When the telegraph has ceased ticking, and the crowd of reporters have
departed, the chief editor, like a ship's captain, the last to leave the
deck, works on. He reads over everything--yes, everything; sifts,
corrects, cuts down, adds to, puts all in order, and towards two o'clock
in the morning gives the order to print, and goes home.
But once more all this is nothing. It is in the Sunday's issue that you
have the crowning feat of journalistic enterprise: thirty or thirty-two
pages of telegrams, articles, essays on politics, the drama, literature,
pictures, the fashions, anecdotes, _bons mots_, interviews, stories for
children, poetry, biographies, chats on science, the whole illustrated
with portraits, sketches of interesting places mentioned in the text,
caricatures, etc. All this for the sum of three halfpence.
And this is not all. How send these mammoth newspapers throughout the
different States of the Union? How? Oh, that is very simple. The _New
York World_ and the _New York Herald_ have special trains. Tell me if it
is not enough to take one's breath away. But, you will ask, how can a
paper publish such a number for three halfpence? From thirty to forty
columns of advertisements, such is the solution of the mystery.
I admire several large papers, notably the _New York Herald_, which put
their immense publicity at the disposition of lean purses. Persons in
want of servants, for example, have to pay 25 cents. a line for
advertising; but male servants in search of a situation only pay 10
cents. a line, and women 5 cents. This is philanthropy of the right
sort, chivalrous philanthropy.
* * * * *
In New York, the large daily papers which you see in the hands of
everyone are: the _Tribune_, the _Times_, the _Herald_, the _World_, the
_Sun_, and the _Star_.
The first two are those most read by the cultivated classes; the most
popular are the two following.
Five or six important newspapers appear in the afternoon: the _Post_
(the most respectable and respected of all American organs); the
_Commercial Advertiser_, an excellent literary, political, and financial
publication; the _Mail and Express_; the _Telegram_, the _Sun_, and the
_World_.
Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago possess newspapers in no way second in
importance to those of New York. Of such are the _Globe_, the _Post_,
the _Advertiser_, the _Herald_, the _Transcript_, and the _Journal_, of
Boston; the _Ledger_ and the _Press_, of Philadelphia; the _Tribune_,
the _Herald_, the _Inter-Ocean_, and the _Journal_, of Chicago.
Washington, St. Louis, San Francisco, Cincinnati, Pittsburg, and many
other towns, have also newspapers of the first importance.
Every little town of a thousand to fifteen hundred inhabitants has its
two newspapers, one democratic, the other republican. For lively
reading, take up these papers during the electoral struggle which
terminates with the installation of a new President at the White House.
The names of some of them will suffice to give you an idea of the style
of the contents: very favourite names are the _Paralyser_, the
_Rustler_, the _Cyclone_, the _Prairie Dog_, the _Bazoo_, the _Lucifer_,
the _Bundle of Sticks_, the _Thunderer_, the _Earthquake_. I saw and
read a copy of the sheet which rejoiced in the name of _Bundle of
Sticks_. The first article contained advice to a certain Joseph Mueller,
who, instead of working, had taken up street preaching and
house-to-house prayer. "We give Joseph Mueller a fortnight to find some
honourable employment. If at the end of that time he is still leading an
idle life, we will find an exalted position for him." The joke makes one
shudder, when one thinks that, if Joseph should turn a deaf ear to the
warning, he is quite sure to be hung by his townsmen to the highest
branch of some tree in the town.
Manners will tone down in the West, as they have in the East, and in
twenty years the _Thunderer_ and the _Avalanche_ will give place to the
_Times_ and the _Tribune_.
The characteristic of new societies is freedom of speech as well as of
action. I read in some _Thunderer_ the following lines about the editor
of the _Lightning_, the other newspaper of the town: "We wish to use
moderation, and to keep within the limits of good breeding. We will only
go so far as to say that personally he is a sneak; and that as a
journalist he is a liar and a scoundrel." The _Lightning_ replies in the
same strain, and the public gets amusement for the moderate sum of one
halfpenny.
Many of these papers of Kentucky, Texas, and other Western States may be
paid for in kind. I extract the following from the _Herald_, of Hazel
Green (Kentucky):--
"_NO EXCUSE FOR IGNORANCE._
_How you may get the 'Herald' for a year without money._
_Bring us_:--
_Twenty pounds of pork; or
Ten pounds of pork sausage; or
Two bushels of sound potatoes; or
Five bushels of sound turnips: or
Ten good chickens; or
One bushel of good onions._
_For half the quantity, we will send the paper half the time._"
And so the whole population of Hazel Green has the newspaper put within
its reach.
* * * * *
The _Thunderer_ and the _Lightning_ are not the only papers that indulge
in violent polemics, in which insulting personalities take the place of
arguments.
During the whole time I was in America, Mr. Pulitzer, proprietor and
manager of the _World_, and Mr. Dana, editor of the _Sun_, one of the
most accomplished American journalists, were day after day calling each
other such names as "robber, liar, mortgaged, dirty Jew." I see by
papers that my New York friends kindly send me from time to time, that
these gentlemen have not yet exhausted their Billingsgate vocabulary.
Do not draw hasty conclusions from this. I do not know Mr. Pulitzer
personally, but I have the pleasure of knowing Colonel Cockerill, chief
editor of the _World_, and Mr. Charles Dana, of the _Sun_. In private
life they are perfect gentlemen, and men of great talent. In public life
they are in the swim--they go with the tide. As a study of English, the
polemic of the _World_ and the _Sun_ was most interesting.
The American press was divided into two camps: the partisans of Pulitzer
and the partisans of Dana. Whenever the combatants were driven up for
want of fresh epithets of the requisite strength, their supporters
suggested some to them. Here are some congratulations, addressed to Mr.
Dana, which I read in the St. Louis _Globe_:
"It was from beginning to end the _Sun's_ stiletto against the _World's_
meat-axe, and, as is always the case, the meat-axe came out second best.
The literature of invective contains nothing finer than some of the
_Sun's_ attacks on the _World_, and the literature of the gutter
contains nothing more feeble than the _World's_ defence. The _Sun_ dealt
out prussic acid by the drop, and the _World_ replied with rough-on-rats
by the pound. The flatulent anger of Pulitzer was completely
overwhelmed by the concentrated venom of Dana."
A _confrere_ could scarcely be more amiable, and I hope Mr. Dana
appreciated the compliments.
* * * * *
America, New York especially, has some capital comic papers.
By that, I mean more comic than the rest.
Similar to the Paris _Charivari_ and to _Punch_, _Puck_ and _Judge_ have
always skits on the questions of the day, touched off with the freedom
which one would expect in free America. The manners of the people are
criticised with wit and good taste. The little illustrations are
charming, but two or three huge coloured pictures done in the crudest
style disfigure each of these papers. Several other publications, such
as _Life_, written in a light, sparkling style, and ornamented with
little fine, tasteful illustrations, concern themselves with the sayings
and doings of higher American society, Little stories, anecdotes, _bons
mots_, material for a merry hour. Admirable are these papers, which know
how to be comic, witty, and bright, without being objectionable, or
unfit to put into the hands of a girl in her teens.
These papers are not only amusing to the stranger, they are instructive.
The funny stories, the naive jokes, as descriptive as they are
diverting, give a truer idea of American character and manners than many
a ponderous volume.
As in France and England, the comic papers in America are the only ones
which give proof of a little wisdom or common sense when the horizon is
darkened and home and foreign political questions are disturbing the
peace of the country.
* * * * *
If I were asked to name the most amusing papers published in the United
States, I should not hesitate to award the palm to the _Detroit Free
Press_ and the _Omaha World_; in these two, American humour reveals
itself in all its spontaneous gaiety, and their drolleries are
reproduced from New York to San Francisco, from Montreal to New Orleans.
* * * * *
Space fails me here to do justice to the literary, dramatic, and
artistic journals. Among the first, however, mention must be made of the
_Critic_. Its analyses are amiable and discreetly erudite. Its
criticisms are always fair, and never crabbed.
* * * * *
I cannot close this chapter without speaking of the American Reviews;
they have attained a perfection which is the highest utterance of
journalism, as understood by the educated world. But they are for the
most part so well known in England that I need not enlarge upon the
merit and charms of such publications as the _North American Review_,
the _Atlantic Monthly_, the _Forum_, the _Century_, the _Harper_,
_Scribner_, _Lippincott_, and that treasure of English-reading children
all over the world, the incomparable _St. Nicholas_. Besides all these,
there are the _Cosmopolitan_, the _America_, the _American Magazine_,
and numbers of others.
Alas, it would need a score of volumes to do anything like justice to
that which one can see in America. Unhappily, it would take a score of
years to see it in. And so I alight but a moment at each turning, happy
if, by trying to show the reader a little of everything, I succeed in
showing him something.